Hogwarts School and the Philosopher's Stones
by AutumnAgain
Summary: In which a misunderstood ritual releases the seven deadly sins into the wizarding world. Manga/Brotherhood post-canon, Harry Potter canon era. Reincarnation fic; homunculi-centric. No character bashing. Title subject to change.


**A/N: I own neither Harry Potter nor Fullmetal Alchemist, and I don't have the money for a lawsuit. See the end of this chapter for more notes.**

For nearly all his life, Tom Marvolo Riddle had been excellent at meddling with dark magic without regard for consequences. So it was that when he stumbled across an incomplete ritual meant to grant immortality in an old journal taken from the home of a murdered blood traitor he did not consider whether it would backfire, or clash with his horcruxes, or fail to work as predicted. The notes said that the ritual had never been successfully performed, but he was Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard alive, conqueror of death. He had created his first horcrux when he was sixteen, surely he could complete a simple ritual. If it worked, his power would be multiplied a thousandfold or more. If it failed, well, he still had his horcruxes, and his followers would never need to know.

On the night of the ritual, Lord Voldemort knelt alone in a candlelit basement. His followers had been informed that anyone who disturbed him would suffer greatly, and so he had been left alone to complete his preparations. Outside, the war raged on unaware. Soon, Voldemort thought, the world would change. He would be undefeatable, uncontrollable! He laughed, the dim light casting his waxy face into ever more disturbing forms. The great circle on the floor, copied from the notes with his own additions and flourishes, practically hummed with promise. He'd found the problem areas easily enough: an absent symbol here, a mistranslation there, a redundant layer of containment that siphoned off more energy than the circle could provide and left the whole thing worthless. It would work now, he was sure, summoning power beyond belief from… wherever it was summoned from. The fool who did the initial research hadn't been sure. It was irrelevant. Soon he would have the power to crush Dumbledore, the Ministry, everyone who had ever defied him. He would rule supreme, for all eternity, and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him!

With that final exhilarating thought, Lord Voldemort activated the circle.

(An aside: the ritual Tom had found was developed by an eccentric old wizard with a passion for runic theory. He had been killed to send a message to his daughter, a passionate muggle rights activist who had gone so far as to marry one, and had left behind dozens of incomplete and forgotten experiments. This particular experiment had been meant to draw energy from a proposed alternate realm and into a local vessel, where it could be studied. Unfortunately for Tom, the wizard had not figured out how to direct the energy from the portal to the vessel before he had gotten distracted by a proposed runic array to remove pigment from animals without hurting them and had utterly failed to note this lack anywhere in his notes. Tom, whose understanding of runic circles was not quite so deep as he believed, had simply assumed that the power would be automatically transferred to the one who performed the ritual. This was very much incorrect.)

The circle crackled with energy, each twist and rune lighting up as the magic flowed through it. In the center, a great violet eye cracked open, filling the room with darkness and the sound of distant screams. Soon, Lord Voldemort thought, refusing to be afraid. Soon the power would be his, and the world would tremble. Energy shot out through the eye, streaking into the room in a swirl of power. Again and again, until the room was filled with seven distinct twists of energy, malicious and powerful and oh so close. They spun and writhed, circling the eye in a twisted mockery of a hurricane. Voldemort tried to reach for one, but the ongoing ritual made it impossible to lift his hand from the edge of the circle. It would come to him, he supposed, just as the wizarding world would, in time. He did not care for patience, but for ultimate power? He would be willing to wait.

The streak of energy did not come to him. With a final circuit of the basement, the seven twists of power shot off through the walls in seven different directions, leaving not a sign of their passage. The eye closed, as though it had never been. The lighting returned to normal. The runic circle deactivated. Voldemort found himself alone, in a basement, exactly as he had been at the start of the experiment.

Horcruxes were far superior to runecraft anyway.

**A/N: Hi I'm alive. This probably isn't going to be a linear story; I currently have a handful of fragments; I think I might do one chapter focused on each character set at a random point on the timeline and go from there. I do not have an endgame in mind and I will take suggestions (probably after next chapter when the actual premise gets explained). This is set entirely in the Harry Potter world; the only FMA characters who will appear outside of flashbacks are the seven homunculi (not Father) and possibly Truth. This is a gen fic, unless an idea mugs me there probably won't be any pairings besides, like, background Narcissa/Lucius or past Wrath/Mrs. Bradley.**

**Let me know if anything I write needs clarification or improvement; I don't have a beta and it's been a while since I've seen the show or read the books.**

**Chapter 2 will be posted... eventually.**


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